Hell & Back Chapter 1
by Sawyer's girl9
Summary: Dean's stuck at a cabin with a bad leg...
1. Chapter 1

Hell and Back- Chapter 1

Dean listened as the car door slammed. It didn't matter. Let him take the damn car. He knew better than to trash it. The cabin was quiet without Sam tapping away at his half-dead laptop. The wind whistled outside, rattling the glass in the windows. Dean sighed, reaching for his beer. It was slightly warm, and flat. One of the many downsides to no power.

He clicked the TV remote without thinking. Dammit. He glanced at the pile of burger wrappers on the table. He started to get angry. Stuck on the couch, bored to shit, and Sam didn't even bother to get food in. What the hell was he supposed to do for four weeks?

Dean scratched at his leg cast absently. He grabbed a pencil off the side and slid it into the cast, itching at the skin.

"Sam told you not to do that."

Dean growled and threw the pencil behind him, where Castiel had appeared. "Yeah? Well, you try sitting here like a potato while he gets to drive off in MY car."

Cass was silent.

Dean glanced behind him. "Still there? What's up, Cass?"

"Tuesday."

"What? What the hell are you on about now?"

Castiel examined Sam's laptop. "He's gone?"

"You tell me. You're the angel."

"He'll be back."

Dean sighed. "Yep. And I'll _still _be stuck here." He paused. "What's Tuesday then?"

"You don't recall?"

"No, sorry, I don't _recall_. Had a lot of Tuesdays."

Castiel walked around. He stared at him seriously. "Tuesday was another day Sam had left. You had no companionship. I believe you were 'lonely'."

Dean flushed, realising what he was getting at. "Shut it, Cass." He finished his beer, catching his lip on the pull-ring. "Shit."

Castiel watched him. "Are you embarrassed by that event?"

Dean looked him in the eye. "I was fucking drunk and fucked up by a lot of shit. Let it go."

Castiel stayed quiet. He looked out of the window at the woods. "The weather is the same."

Dean remembered. It'd been a while ago. Not long after meeting Cass, when he was still quite abnormal. Not exactly human. By that, Dean had put it down to a one-off and not some huge life-changing experience. He hadn't forgotten, not ever, but he didn't try to think about it. In this business, you needed your wits. It wasn't an option. What the hell _was _the option anyway? After all, he was still an angel.

"You've dwelled on it."

Dean looked up from his cast. Cass was blocking the window, staring at him intently. Dean scowled and tried to hobble to the kitchen. He tripped, Cass catching him just before he hit the floor. Cass carried him back to the couch, sitting close. Dean mumbled thanks, looking away.

"Are you still lonely, Dean?"

Dean clenched his jaw. "You know what? When the fuck am I not? Half the fucking time I'm killing shit, the other half I'm dealing with Sam! The best I've got is my car and now I can't even fucking use it! This ain't no job that comes with a timeout, no me-time." He laughed shortly. "I'm always, _always_ working! I don't know how fucked up my head is, so you know what? Screw it! Add another problem to the list. Not like I can fucking help it!"

Cass leant towards him and gently bumped Dean's lips with his own. He pulled away, a worried expression on his angelic face.

Dean blinked. "If you're consulting your angel fucking moral code- don't."

He seized the back of Cass' neck and pulled him back, desperate and hungry. An entire mountain of responsibility and worry fell from his shoulders, making him feel free, comfortable. He kept his grip on Cass, kissing him, nipping him, thirsty for more. His lips grazed the soft fuzz of Cass' stubble, breathing in the strange, exotic scent of the angel. Cass was like butter, completely fluid as Dean pushed him down.

Almost savage-like, he took control of Cass, needing him, taking him. He moaned softly. He held Cass' wrists tight, kissing him and moving to his neck, biting the flesh. Cass gave a small breath. He let one arm free to slide Cass' trench coat off. Cass froze and pushed Dean away abruptly, slamming him half-way across the cabin.

Dean hit the solid metal desk, his cast leg at an awkward angle. He looked up dizzily, his head thumping. "What the HELL!"

Castiel stood, his coat rearranged. He seemed confused, his face creased. "I- I- I don't know. I don't-" He paused. "I don't think I am allowed."

He looked skyward. "God's word. He won't allow it. "

Dean stared. "Shit."

He blacked out.

…

Dean woke with a start. He narrowed his eyes, glancing around the cabin. He was back on the couch. The empty beer-can was in front of him. Cass was gone.

"What the FUCK?"

He swallowed. Maybe it just some crazy dream. Least Sam wasn't here. He tried to wipe his thoughts clean, to never think of Castiel like that ever again. He concentrated on monsters, running through his weapon inventory in his mind, his Impala, anything.

Dean put his legs up on the edge of the couch, scratching his head. He stopped. The leg cast had gone, the leg completely healed.

"Well, I'll be damned."

The atmosphere in the cabin changed. Dean spun around. "Cass!"

Castiel ducked his head. "I believe I should apologise."

Dean gaped at him. "This was you?"

"I healed your head as well. My way of apologising. I'm sorry."

"Well- er- apology accepted. So what- that- _that _really happened?" Dean asked, not meeting his eyes. He crumpled the beer can and tossed it near the trash. "You damn near knocked me out."

"Sam will return soon. We haven't got long." He knelt before Dean, a hand pressed tenderly on his leg. "It was not God that stopped me."

"Cass-"

"I know you are lonely, Dean." His blue eyes were full of empathy. "I have spent enough time on Earth to see pain."

Dean flicked his hand away. "Yeah? Why'd you push me away then?"

"I'm not human, Dean."

Dean laughed. "Damn, Cass, I knew that from day one."

Castiel sighed heavily, frustrated. "I do not share the same needs as you. I do not sleep. God's love is the only love I know."

Dean stood up quickly. "Man, look, I'm not-"

"I know. I am offering what I can. Anything."

Dean took a long look at the angel, in his neat suit and coat. Castiel gazed at him earnestly, both innocent and ethereal at once. A rush of blood went to his head, his arms tingling.

"Alright."


	2. Chapter 2

Hell and Back Chapter 2

"It's been a week, Dean."

Dean flicked his sunglasses up lazily. "What, man? Trying to catch some z's here."

Sam shot him a look. "Well, don't mind me. I just know what you're like when you don't- uh- release tension. Sure you don't want to stop at the next bar?"

He pointed to a passing sign, depicting a curvy brunette winking and holding up a beer. "Ten minutes away."

Dean punched him in the shoulder and lolled back in his seat. "We're on a trail. No time, smartass. I'll pass."

Sam shook his head. "Your call."

Dean dozed off, making up for the last two nights at the motel. He'd been keeping a vigil for Cass, not knowing when or if he'd even turn up. Cass had not returned since that time at the cabin, having disappeared once Sam showed up. Dean had shrugged off his newly-healed leg, blaming the angel's nonchalance. Sam simply found a new job and then they were off again. So much for cheeseburgers and beer on the couch.

They were searching for something that had killed three times in two cities, all drownings in private or public pools. It didn't seem to be anything that would require an angel's involvement, so it was unlikely Cass would show up to help. Dean was getting increasingly frustrated- Sam was right in that. But he just didn't fancy some brainless blonde. It wouldn't work. And he really didn't need the humiliation of trying and failing. Screw that!

Dean wasn't actually sure what he was waiting for. He just wanted to see Cass.

"Last chance. Pull in?"

Dean waved his hand. "Pass." He closed his eyes.

The Impala turned instead of carrying straight on. Dean groaned. "Dude. Please tell me you didn't."

Sam smirked. "Come on. I'll buy the drinks. You need it."

"Sam, are you actually pushing me to have sex? Jeez, and if I tried it on you, I'd be dead!" Dean sighed. "Ok. We'll grab some food then get going. Tank needs a refill."

Sam parked the car and looked at him oddly. "Are you alright, Dean?"

"Yeah." He opened his wallet. "Hmm. Think they do pie?"

Sam stopped him with a hand. "You've been eating a lot, you know. But not drinking."

"Who're you, my wife? Come on, man."

…

Sam dragged Dean into the motel room, kicking the door wide. Dean was giggling, snorting. Sam put him on his bed, unhooking his arm.

"Ok, come on, bed. I think you've had enough."

Dean collapsed, sprawled out laughing. "Did you see her? Did you? Bitch didn't know what hit her. Bet you're going back down to see her now, eh, Sammy? Get laid, man!"

"No, I'm not. Need to do some reading. You sleep, I'll be back up later. The restroom's that way. Please don't puke on my shirt, 'k? Just take a break, you sure as hell need it."

Dean slumped over, a grin etched over his face. "Night, Sam."

Sam made a clear path to the bathroom and stood watching him for a second. He quietly grabbed his bag and left a note on the desk. Once he was gone, Dean slept solid.

He woke half a day later, thirsty. "Sam?"

Dean stumbled to the toilet and after puking up his guts, got a quick shower. He looked through the motel room, towelling his wet hair. "Sam, you asshole, where are you?"

"Did you not read his note?"

Dean rolled off the bed, alarmed. "Fuck! Cass!"

Castiel looked at him, bemused. "Oh. You are nude."

"Fuck! Jeez, turn around! Stop staring, you perv! Goddamit!" Dean slung his towel around his waist, droplets of water falling on his back and chest from his hair. He shoved on a pair of boxers. "Ok, I'm decent. Don't you do that again."

Castiel continued to stand with his back turned, confused. "I'm sorry if I upset you."

Dean got dressed hastily, belting his jeans. "It's okay. Turn around." He stood shirtless, patting his pockets. "Where's my wallet?"

Castiel frowned. "Are you embarrassed by your nudity? I don't understand."

"Well, yeah. Most people are. Have you seen Sam?"

"I don't see why. Your body is better than most." Cass glanced down at himself and smiled. "Oh I see! The odd one out."

There was a fluttering noise and Cass stood naked, grinning. "There! Do you feel comfortable now?"

Dean spluttered, waving his hands. "NO, CASS! PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON!"

Castiel peered downwards. "Why?"

"Because this isn't a FUCKING NUDIEFEST!" Dean yelled. He focused his eyes on Castiel's innocent face, ignoring the urge to look past the angel's pale but toned torso. "JESUS!"

Castiel reappeared in his trademark trench coat and suit, blushing. "Oh. I know now what you meant in the cabin. Sorry."

Dean gawped at him. "Wait- whoa, whoa. You didn't- you didn't even _know_-? What the hell did you think I meant?"

He sighed. "Companionship?"

There was a long silence.

Dean pulled on a shirt angrily. He paused and took a deep breath. "Cass, I know you're new to this shit, but damn. You kissed me. In human terms, that's kinda linked to sex. You know lust, right?"

Cass' blue eyes widened with understanding. "You wanted to-?"

Dean didn't meet his eyes. "Let's go find Sammy. We'll talk later."


End file.
